Supernatural Magic: Book One
by Alex Traxel
Summary: Supernatural is at Hogwarts - Death is headmaster, angels and demons attend and teach, and young hunters are free to roam. In Dean's first year, a monster finds a way to attack the school, forcing him into his first solo hunt. First of seven stories.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, I suddenly had this idea and I felt the need to write it. I've already planned out what general problem they're going to face each year, as well as who is in school at what time and everything. So hopefully this story doesn't fall apart. But be warned - there will be absolutely no Harry Potter characters. It's completely Supernatural or original characters in the HP setting. And please forgive me if I don't do some characters justice, but for the most part they're all significantly younger and it's an AU and there are twenty-eight Supernatural characters that will make an appearance at some time, last time I checked. So please forgive me.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Supernatural characters or any Harry Potter settings or concepts. I do own the general ideas and any original characters, but that's really about it.**

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

It was five minutes until the train departed, the large clock on the wall reading ten fifty-five. By now, a majority of this year's students had boarded the scarlet train, speaking to or waving at family members from the windows. However, a few remained on the platform, delaying their boarding until literally the last minute. Dean Winchester was one of those students.

The eleven-year-old stood in front of one of the doors, a caged horned owl on the ground by his feet. His arms were wrapped around his little brother's small frame, seven-year-old Sam's tousled hair brushing his chin. A man stood nearby, politely averting his eyes to allow the two children to say goodbye with some degree of privacy.

Finally, Dean drew back and gripped his brother by the shoulders, his freckled face worried. "Be careful, okay? I'll write to you once a week, but tell me if anything bad happens. I'll be back here as soon as I can if something goes wrong," he promised, and Sam flashed him a small smile.

"Do you really gotta go?" Sam asked, his eyes misting over and his lower lip trembling as he looked up at his older brother. Normally this look would change Dean's mind, make him do anything to keep his brother from crying. This time, the eldest of the two just gave a slow shrug, though he felt bad doing so.

"It won't be for that long, Sammy. I'll come home for Christmas and Easter and for all of summer. And you'll still have Dad and Pastor Jim," Dean reassured, glancing at the man behind Sam, who smiled and nodded. It looked like the older Winchester boy was about to say something else when the train's whistle blew and smoke started to billow out more heavily. Dean scooped up his owl's cage and gave Sam another, one-armed hug before scrambling onto the train before the door closed.

Opening the window on the door, Dean gave his little brother a wave and what he hoped was a confident smile. Sam quickly scrubbed at his face to dry it before waving back. "Don't forget about me," he called in as stern a voice as any seven-year-old could muster.

"I won't!" Dean promised, lurching suddenly as the train started moving. As the train pulled away, Sam continued to wave while Pastor Jim placed a hand on the small boy's shoulder and raised his other in his own farewell. After a minute, the train rounded a corner and the platform receded from view. Still, Dean remained at the window for a few more minutes before closing it and heading into the actual corridor.

With the amount of students, and taking in the fact that he was amongst the last to find a spot, Dean knew it would be impossible to find an empty compartment. He decided to simply settle for one with few kids in it who would allow his presence.

It was a lot harder for Dean to find a spot than he had originally thought, however. In any compartment he stopped at that looked to have enough room, its occupants insisted it was full, and he moved on. By the time he got halfway down the train, Dean was growing frustrated. He passed one compartment with five older, rather loud boys. The next compartment had only two boys who looked to be Dean's age or a little older. One of the boys was lying on his back, tossing a ball up in the air so it hit the ceiling and then catching it again. The other simply stared out the window, his chin propped up by his hand.

When Dean opened the door, the boy with the ball sat up, catching the ball again as he did so, while the other boy simply glanced over his shoulder. "You mind?" Dean asked, nodding toward one of the empty seats. His question had rapidly gotten shorter as more and more people denied him and it was close to turning into simply one word.

"Nah, feel free," the boy with the ball said, gesturing grandly to the seats by the other boy. Dean was pleasantly surprised and took a seat with a nod of thanks. "I'm Balthazar, by the way. Balthazar Gassagen," the boy added, offering his hand to Dean. "And that's my older brother, Castiel." Glancing over at his brother, Balthazar stage-whispered, "He's not nearly as much fun to be around as I am."

Castiel frowned at his little brother and stated simply, "I am too fun to be around." Then he looked over at Dean and nodded with a rather small smile. "Hello."

Taking Balthazar's hand, Dean gave it a quick, firm shake and said, "My name's Dean Winchester."

"Winchester, huh? We've heard of your family before. Your dad's like an Auror or something, isn't he?" Balthazar asked, his interest practically visible. Castiel tilted his head curiously but allowed his younger brother to do the speaking instead of piping up himself.

"Or something," Dean answered vaguely, fiddling with the latch on his owl's cage. Once it was open, the horned owl flapped its wings once, landing on his shoulder and nipping affectionately at a little fringe of hair.

The vague answer only served to peak Balthazar's interest, instead of thwarting it as Dean had intended. "So what's he do? I've only heard that he's like an Auror, but he helps Muggles, too, right? Aurors don't do that." Dean opened and closed his mouth a couple times at first, debating whether or not to explain what his father did. He had quickly discovered that even amongst wizards, people going around and chasing myths and legends and killing them was rather strange. At least, no one did it that hadn't been employed to do so, which his father definitely hadn't, as John didn't care to work solely for witches and wizards.

Before Dean made up his mind, Castiel spoke up from his little corner of the compartment. "Quit pressing, Balthazar. If he doesn't want to tell us, he doesn't have to." The younger of the two boys pouted a little but accepted it, lounging back on his stretch of seats and tossing his ball between his hands. There was a brief moment of silence before a loud thud came from the compartment next door, causing all three boys to jump. Dean's owl ruffled its feathers and left his shoulder for a moment before settling again, giving Dean an indignant hoot in protest.

Castiel opened his mouth to speak, his attention drawn to the wall, but as soon as the first syllable left his throat, the compartment door opened and then closed again quickly. The three young boys turned their attention away from the wall and toward the door as an older boy flopped into a seat at Balthazar's feet, causing the boy to quickly draw his legs away. The older boy was rather tall and gangly, with dark hair that fell in front of his face and dark eyes. He was sucking on some kind of sucker, the stick protruding from the corner of his mouth.

"That was fast," Castiel commented, frowning as he looked between the newcomer and the wall that separated the two compartments. "I thought it would take longer for Michael to kick you out."

"I did too. But you can't be too surprised. I myself was only expecting to stick around for another few minutes at the most," the older boy said around his sucker. After moving it around in his mouth for a moment, he pulled the sucker out of his mouth. A Blood Pop. "Who's your new friend?" he asked, gesturing toward Dean with his candy on a stick.

Dean made to answer, but Balthazar beat him to it, saying quickly, "That's Dean. And Dean, this is our brother Lucifer." Lucifer raised his hand in greeting, sticking the Blood Pop back in his mouth. By now, Dean had placed him as being one of the loud boys in the compartment next door, where the loud thud had come from. He couldn't help but wonder what had been going on over there.

"How many brothers do you have?" Dean asked, directing the question to all of them collectively. What worried him was that they all had to briefly consider the question before answering, in unison.

"Five more," the three boys said, and Castiel added, "And one sister." Dean blinked, astonished. He thought it was bad dealing with just Sam sometimes, let alone eight, other siblings all in the same house. His next thought was, _damn, they must live in a _huge_ place!_ He wasn't used to living anywhere with more than two bedrooms, and anything bigger than that seemed gigantic enough in comparison. Forgot about the size a building needed to be in order to house nine children.

Digging into his pocket, Lucifer suddenly withdrew a handful of Chocolate Frogs and wrapped Cauldron Cakes and Pumpkin Pasties, holding them out to Dean, Castiel and Balthazar. "Candy, anyone?" he asked, and while Balthazar and Dean accepted and took what they wanted, Castiel just looked at the sweets skeptically, not moving from where he sat.

"It's too early for the snack trolley. Where'd you get those?" he asked suspiciously, simply watching as Dean stuffed half a wriggling Chocolate Frog in his mouth. Lucifer grinned, offering the last Pumpkin Pasty to his brother.

"Oh, come on. Gabe's got enough sugar without me snitching a little bit. He can live without ten sweets," Lucifer said around his Blood Pop, which was quickly turning his tongue, teeth and lips bright red. Castiel frowned and pushed the sweets away from his face and Lucifer shrugged, pocketing it for himself. He was used to his little brother's strict adherence to the rules and was at least grateful that it wasn't as bad as Michael's rule obsession.

"I'm assuming Gabe is another brother," Dean said as soon as he swallowed his mouthful of chocolate. Balthazar nodded, licking black frosting from his fingers before wiping his hands on his jeans. The wet icing left smears across the denim where his fingers had touched the fabric.

"Yeah, Gabriel. I think he has an actual addiction for sugar," Balthazar confided, tearing open his own Chocolate Frog. He grabbed the chocolate in one hand and nibbled idly on one of the frog's legs while turning the trading card over in his hand. "There's also Michael, a great big stick in the mud." To this, Lucifer snorted and smiled with a nod while Castiel rolled his eyes. "And Uriel and Rafael, who are both bookworm-y. And then Zachariah is the oldest, though he's not on the train, and neither is our little sister Anna."

Dean tilted his head and wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve, setting the rest of his candy aside for later. "Did your oldest brother graduate already?" he asked. He completely understood why their little sister wasn't around, if she wasn't eleven yet, but there could have been a couple reasons for the oldest brother to not be around. Some clarification was needed on that point.

This time, Castiel answered, nodding as he said, "Yes. Two years ago. He started teaching just last year. Kind of weird, really, having a class taught by your older brother."

"Yeah. But he's at least a pretty good Potions teacher. Be glad Zach came along just as you started school, Cas - you didn't have to put up with the scatter-brained idiot who taught before," Lucifer said, pointing his mostly-eaten sucker at his little brother. "I don't think that professor could have told you the difference between a bezoar and newt eyes, even if he had the ingredients and a list of their properties right in front of him." At the younger boys' skeptical looks, Lucifer quickly defended, "Okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating a little. But still, he had the worst memory in the world and was hard to follow."

Just then, the compartment door opened yet again, and the occupants turned to see who the newcomer was. Or rather, Dean and Balthazar whipped their heads around while Castiel and Lucifer simply turned their heads, the latter casually resuming sucking on his Blood Pop. In the doorway stood a rather tall young man with somewhat long blonde hair, at least for a boy. His eyes were bright blue, and there was a shiny silver badge with a 'P' on it attached to the front of his shirt.

Looking around at the people in the compartment, the newcomer offered the younger boys a smile and nod before his eyes fell on Lucifer. Immediately, his smile turned into a suffering look and he sighed loudly, slouching against the doorway and crossing his arms. "I can't believe I'm stopping by to tell you this, but there's a girl who wants to see you a few compartments down, Lucifer. Says it's urgent," the boy said, jabbing his thumb down the corridor and rolling his eyes. It was obvious that he considered the level of 'urgency' to be very little.

Sitting up so he was resting his elbows on his knees, Lucifer asked, "What's she look like?" The other boy just shrugged, looking about ready to leave, but Lucifer reached out and snagged the edge of his shirt. "Come on, Mike. You know I've seen more than one girl before." This time, Castiel and Balthazar both joined the boy, who Dean assumed was their older brother Michael, in a collective eye roll. "You've gotta be a little more descriptive than 'there's a girl'."

With a noise that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan, Michael levered himself up so he was standing upright and gestured vaguely down the corridor. "She's about fourteen or fifteen, black hair, already dressed in Ravenclaw robes, about as tall as Gabriel," he said quickly before letting his arms fall to his sides. "Alright, now you know what she looks like. I'm off now. Don't get in trouble." To the younger boys, he added, "See you around, and don't fill up on sweets yet - you'll definitely want to eat later tonight at the feast." With that, Michael let the compartment door slide closed and headed off, as Lucifer stood up, crunching on the rest of his sucker and tossing the stick onto the seat he'd just left.

"Well, then. I'll leave you kiddos to do...whatever it was you were doing before I arrived. I have somewhere to be." Pulling open the door, Lucifer did some sort of gesture that was somewhere between a wave and salute, disappearing into the corridor with a quick, "Later, kids."

Once the door closed again, Dean slowly turned to look at the other two. Castiel was still looking at the door, and Balthazar was picking up the discarded sucker stick with a look of disgust before burying it in his small pile of candy wrappers. "Does this happen often?" Dean asked, looking between the two brothers and the closed compartment door.

"Fairly often," Castiel answered with a nod, grabbing a left over chunk of Cauldron Cake from amongst Dean's candy wrappers and offering it to the horned owl on the Winchester boy's shoulder. The owl stared at it for a moment before nipping it up and giving a happy hoot. "At least now. A couple years ago it wasn't as bad."

"Lucifer suddenly started dating the whole school just last year. Didn't matter what house they were in - if they were female, they were in trouble. I only heard about this second hand, from my brothers, but apparently it was pretty bad," Balthazar said, and Castiel nodded gravely. Dean smirked a little, rather glad he didn't have to put up with Lucifer chasing after girls. And he wouldn't have to put up with anything like it for a while, should his own brother ever feel the need to chase after girls, since Sam was only seven. His age had to practically double before there was even a possibility that the younger Winchester would do something like that.

After a short silence, Dean spoke up again, turning to face Castiel who had pulled his attention back to the window, where the scenery flashed past so fast it was a blur. "So you're a second year, then?" he asked and Castiel nodded, looking away from the window once more.

"Yes, I'm in my second year. Michael is in sixth, Lucifer and Rafael are in fifth, Uriel is in fourth, Gabriel is in third, and Balthazar is starting his first," Castiel answered, listing his brothers off on his fingers as he went.

"And Anna's gonna be able to come in another two years," Balthazar added before once more looking at Dean with interest. "What about you, are you also a first year like me?"

Dean nodded, settling back in his seat. His owl shifted positions so her tail wasn't smashed up against the seat and he idly reached up and stroked the feathers on her head. "Yeah, I am," he confirmed. This led to him and Balthazar discussing what their first years might be like, with Castiel chiming in every now and then to disprove some falsehood that Lucifer or Rafael had apparently fed to their youngest brother. They also discussed possible house choices (Balthazar was dead set on getting into Gryffindor, and Dean was right there with him) and who some of the professors were, and whether or not they would be good professors.

The boys' conversation ended with Balthazar pulling out a deck of Exploding Snap cards, and they cleared of space in which to play. Castiel very wisely opted out of having cards explode in his face, but the other two didn't mind - they were more than happy to simply play a one on one game. Michael stopped by once more to check up on them, but he didn't stick around long before returning to where he had been with his other brothers. It was in this fashion that they passed the time until they had to change into their school robes.

While the boys had wasted time, darkness had fully fallen, and the train was starting to slow. Dean had to coax his owl into her cage, promising that she would be let out again pretty soon. She stared at him for a long moment before obeying, sidling into the cage and allowing the door to get latched behind her. As soon as the train came to a complete stop, Balthazar threw open the compartment door and practically ran for the exit, Castiel and Dean following at a calmer pace.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Alright, I had been hoping to get this chapter out way sooner, but I was a little busy. College takes up way too much time than I think it really should, and I've also been writing a book for the past four months, which I've finally gotten around to finishing. But hopefully the arrival of a new chapter makes up for my prolonged absence from FF. Or at least makes it a bit more bearable. And no, I'm not making up my own Sorting Hat song. I can't write songs or poetry or anything like that, so I'm skipping it entirely.**

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><p>As he stepped off the train, Dean shuffled off to the side and then paused, looking around. He realized that he actually had no idea which way he was going, and watching the large crowd of teenagers wasn't helping. Everyone was going every which way - filing off to the school, wandering off to find friends they hadn't spotted on the train ride up, or trying to figure out where they were going themselves. Someone leaving the train car wasn't paying attention and hit Dean's shoulder, making him stumble, and then was gone in the crowd before the boy could say anything.<p>

Deciding to simply walk in one direction and hope it led where he needed to go, Dean turned and headed off into the crowd, threading his way between other students. He pulled his robes in close, worried that someone might step on them or that they might catch on something. Before he'd wandered too far, a hand fell on his shoulder and pulled the young Winchester to a stop. Glancing over his shoulder, Dean noticed Castiel standing behind him and he inwardly let out a sigh of relief. At the very least, he'd found someone that he kind of knew. Or someone found him. Either way, it didn't really matter - the results were the same.

"You're going the wrong way," Castiel said matter-of-factly, pointing off into the crowd behind them. "The first years are gathering down that way, with Professor McLeod. They're easy to find. Just look for Balthazar." Dean smiled and thanked him, getting a small smile in return before the twelve-year-old disappeared into the crowd, heading off to join the stream of people who were now all mostly heading in the same direction.

Turning around, Dean hastened in the direction that Castiel had pointed out. Most of the students had already disembarked from the train, so there were very few people to get in his way or that he had to battle his way past, unlike a minute ago. It didn't take him very long to stumble across the group of small, rather nervous-looking first years. They were gathered around a man who was wearing what appeared to be a Muggle suit, but Dean reasoned that they were really dress robes. Why he was wearing them was anyone's guess, however. The man held a lantern that illuminated all the faces of the frightened first years. The young Winchester assumed this was the Professor McLeod that Castiel had mentioned.

Balthazar had been waiting at the fringes of the gathering and a broad grin stretched across his face when he caught sight of Dean. "I thought you'd gotten lost," he said once Dean was within earshot. "I was considering going out and looking for you. To make sure you weren't trampled or something."

"Thanks for the concern, but I wasn't lost. I was talking to Castiel and came along when he had to leave," Dean lied, shoving his hands in his pockets to hide the fact that he was crossing his fingers. His dad had told him before that crossing his fingers did nothing, and was no more than a silly superstition that poor liars took up, but Dean still did it occasionally when his dad wasn't around. As much as he normally agreed with his dad, on this regard, Dean felt that crossing his fingers actually helped a little bit, and right now he just really wanted Balthazar to believe him. He didn't want to have to admit that he had in fact gotten lost and had been going the wrong way when all the other first years seemed to manage to find this place just fine.

"Really? You'd probably be the first, then. It's hard to have a conversation with him. He's too literal," Balthazar said, making a face at his brother's behavior. He looked ready to say more before the professor spoke up from where he stood at the head of the first years.

"All right. I believe everyone's here who's going to be showing up. So let's head on out, shall we? Come along, you lot," Professor McLeod said, leading the way down a slope with the cluster of first years on his heels. Dean had noticed that the professor had an Irish accent, a sudden change from all of the British ones, excluding his own American accent.

As they rounded a corner, Hogwarts became visible where it sat atop the rocks, the vast, shimmering lake separating the eleven-year-olds from the castle. The building was large and sprawling, with turrets, bridges, and towers abound. What appeared to be a million windows dotted the stone, each of them lit up and the light reflecting off the lake like hundreds of other stars. The crescent moon sat directly above the castle, as if it where a part of it, and added a background illumination that almost seemed to make the building glow. The first years gaped at the sight, some losing their footing on the path as they became more preoccupied with the castle than their feet.

Looking down the path, boats were lined up along the shore, sitting in place without any visible aid, as far as Dean could tell. Obviously magic kept them from getting taken out into the middle of the lake. Professor McLeod stopped along the shore and held up the lantern so its light stretched across most of the children gathered before him. "Four to a boat, now. If you want to try to fit more, be my guest, but it'll be your fault if it sinks," he said, taking out his wand. With a wave and a muttered word, lanterns on the bows of each small boat lit themselves, illuminating the little cove easily and giving the first years more than enough light to see by. McLeod hung the lantern he carried onto the bow of another, smaller boat, which seemed to be his, and watched as the young students hurried to fill the boats.

Dean and Balthazar managed to share one, along with a very small bushy-haired girl and a nervous, twitchy boy, who shied away from them when they joined him. Once everyone was settled, the professor got into his own boat, along with a young boy who'd been unable to share one with any of his fellow students. "Unless you want to go for a swim, please stay in the boats while they're moving," McLeod said before he tapped his with his wand. At that signal, the boat drifted off across the lake, followed by the collection of boats that carried the first years.

As they moved, Dean, like all the others, stared at the approaching castle. He'd heard stories about it, but they weren't first-hand stories. It had been his mother who had gone to Hogwarts - his dad had gone to the school in Salem instead - and he didn't really remember any stories she'd told him before she'd died. Anything he'd heard had been told by his dad, and then not very often, as his dad was often gone on a hunt. But Dean doubted that even if his mom had lived to tell him of this, it probably wouldn't have lost the awe that the sight inspired. Hearing about something was one thing - actually experiencing it was another.

The boats drew into a little cave beneath the castle a couple minutes later without incident. The bottoms scraped against the ground, and in front of them rose a winding staircase, which was lit by torches at even intervals along the walls. The first years climbed out of their boats, a couple splashing in the water and getting their feet and the bottom of their robes wet, and followed the professor up the steps. The stairs ended at a large set of double doors that towered over everyone in front of them and looked much too tall for any living person.

"Everyone gather 'round," Professor McLeod said once he'd reached the top, stopping in front of the double doors and turning to face the first years. Some of the students had to stand on the steps and got up on their tiptoes to try and see over everyone's heads. "When we go inside, you all will be sorted into the Houses where you'll be spending the next seven years. More if you happen to fail out of a year, but I'm sure you'll all do well enough." The professor grinned and swept his gaze around at the eleven-year-olds, who were muttering anxiously amongst themselves. For many, the idea of failing a year hadn't even occurred to them.

"For those that don't know already, the four Houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin," McLeod continued, his voice silencing a majority of the mutterings. "While you're with your House, you'll be awarded points for good behavior and have them taken away for bad behavior. At the end of the year, the House with the most points wins the House Cup. And bragging rights because of it."

The professor looked around at them once more before nodding and turning to the doors, pushing them open. "Let's get this done then, shall we?" he said over his shoulder, leading the students inside. They went down a wide corridor a short distance before going through another set of large doors, through which sat the Great Hall.

As Dean looked around, he had to admit it was named aptly. It certainly was great. The room was large, with a towering ceiling that almost didn't seem to be there unless one looked closely, since it perfectly replicated the sky outside. Hundreds if not thousands of candles floated above everyone's heads, providing more than enough light to the large hall. Four long tables were set up parallel to each other, and all of them were filled with older students in black robes. The older students watched the first years trail between the middle two tables, talking amongst themselves, while some students stood to find eleven-year-old friends or relatives. At the other side of the hall was a slightly raised platform where another long table was set up, stretched across the length of the hall, where the teachers sat. And in front of this was a stool with a battered hat sitting atop it, looking like it would fall to pieces at any minute.

As they walked, Balthazar practically spun in circles looking for all of his brothers. Dean managed to spot Castiel at the Hufflepuff table - it was hard to miss the twelve-year-old since he was sitting right next to where they were walking - and Michael with the Gryffindors. He didn't see any of the others, but Balthazar seemed to have spotted them, since he waved a few times. Dean noticed just from the direction that the other boy was facing that Balthazar had brothers in every house.

Professor McLeod led the first years to the end of the hall, and as he stepped onto the platform, the talking quieted down to the faintest of whispers as the older students turned their attention to the front. Suddenly, the hat on the stool moved, straightening. A rip along the brim opened like a mouth and it started to speak, much to the surprise of some of the students. Dean didn't pay it much mind himself - he'd heard about it in passing, something else brought up in those second-hand stories, and he'd seen weirder things than a talking hat anyway. Instead, he scanned the teachers' table, waiting for the hat's song to come to its conclusion.

The first person Dean's eyes fell on was his Uncle Bobby, who looked rather strange in dark blue robes instead of the denim, plaid, and trucker caps that he normally wore. Bobby had started teaching a couple years back, when he'd accompanied Dean, Sam, and John to England. It was not only helpful to the school, who at the time needed a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, but Bobby now had access to even more lore and books than he already did, something that Dean's dad used to its fullest potential.

Near Bobby sat Rufus Turner, a hunter that Dean had met once or twice when the man wasn't working at the school. Right now he was sprawled back in his seat, one leg crossed over the other and his foot bouncing. He seemed to have more impatient energy than some of the students. The only other person at the teacher's table that Dean recognized was Ellen Harvell, a friend of his dad and Bobby. They sometimes visited her and her family - her daughter Jo was four years old and loved to toddle after Sam and Dean wherever they went. Dean didn't like having her follow them everywhere, but Ellen had told him off for making Jo cry because he once went and hid where she couldn't follow.

Dean was pulled harshly from his musings as the hall suddenly erupted into applause, and he hastily joined in. The hat now sat silently on the stool, looking as if it had never moved in the first place. Professor McLeod produced a long roll of parchment - from where, Dean wasn't entirely sure - and the hall quieted. "Alright, first years. I'm going to call your name from the list and then you'll come up and take a seat and get sorted. Once you are sorted, please leave the hat _here_ and join your house. You'll be able to find them well enough," he said, glancing at the list. "Aster, Kincaid."

A tall, stocky boy that looked to be much older than eleven sauntered up to the front, taking a seat on the small three-legged stool. He had a confident smirk plastered to his face as the hat was placed on his head. Silence stretched for a full minute, during which time Kincaid squirmed uncomfortably where he sat. Finally, as some of the students were starting to mutter amongst themselves, the brim of the hat split into a mouth again and yelled, "Slytherin!" One of the side tables erupted in applause and cheers, the other students adding their own, quieter congratulations. Kincaid jumped up, practically threw the hat back on the stool, and hurried over to the Slytherin table, a huge grin plastered on his face.

After Kincaid came the first Ravenclaw, Darren Austin, followed by Destan Carey, a Gryffindor. After them came a few girls - a Slytherin, a Ravenclaw, and two Hufflepuffs. Balthazar didn't seem to be paying attention, he was busy picking at a loose thread on his sleeve, but every time a new name was called, Dean saw his head snap up expectantly. Finally, after the second girl went into Hufflepuff, McLeod called, "Gassagen, Balthazar." The young boy pushed his way to the front, tripping over the hem of his robes when he first tried to take the steps up to the stool. Some of the students laughed but Balthazar pretended he didn't hear them, sitting down and jamming the hat on his head. It was quiet for a short while, though not nearly as long as it had been for Kincaid, before the hat shouted, "Gryffindor!"

Dean clapped along with everyone else as he watched the other boy walk with forced calmness to the Gryffindor table, who were cheering quite loudly. Michael made room for his brother at the table and Balthazar settled down, shooting Dean a quick thumbs-up. Suddenly, the young Winchester felt nervous. It hadn't been so bad when Balthazar had been standing next to him, someone Dean knew, but now he was all alone, and he knew he'd have to wait forever to know where he was going.

"Harvelle, Ash," Professor McLeod called and Dean looked around. He knew that Ellen had a son, too, but he had never seen Ash and didn't even know that he was starting at Hogwarts this year, too. Ash normally kept to himself when Dean and his family were there, generally staying locked in his room, though Jo talked about him a lot. Ash was a scrawny boy with a mullet and his robe sleeves rolled up past his elbows. He walked up calmly, flashing Ellen a quick, relaxed smile. He seemed to be one of the least anxious eleven-year-olds in the group. The hat barely touched his head before it bellowed, "Ravenclaw!" Along with the entirety of the Ravenclaw table, Ellen clapped as loudly as she could as Ash went and took his seat amongst his housemates.

Dean shifted anxiously as he watched the other students trickle away to their houses. Erica Jones became a Ravenclaw and after her was Kayleigh Kaston, a Gryffindor. After a little bit, Dean stopped paying attention, simply looking around the room. He kept hoping, more and more dearly as his name inched closer, that he would be a Gryffindor himself. Finally, after Noel Traips, it was just him and another boy standing awkwardly in front of the rest of the school. "Winchester, Dean," the professor called. Dean hesitated for a moment, rubbing his sweaty hands on his robes, before stepping up and taking his seat. He could not only see but feel everyone's eyes on him and it made him uncomfortable. His dad was always telling him not to draw attention to himself if it could be avoided, so it felt extremely unnerving to be the center of attention now.

Luckily, it didn't last long. The hat brushed against the rebellious, gravity-defying section of hair at the front of his head and yelled out, "Gryffindor!" Dean was surprised - he hadn't even felt it touch his head completely - but the applause brought him out of his momentary frozen state. He jumped down off the stool and hurried over to join Balthazar, thinking that the quicker he got there, then the sooner people would go back to not staring at him. Balthazar clapped him on the back and Michael grinned, nodding at him amiably. Glancing back up at the main table, Dean caught his Uncle Bobby's smile and returned it with a large grin. He was extremely happy and relieved that he had gotten into Gryffindor as he'd wanted, and that it had been an immediate thing, unlike most of the other first years who'd had to wait a little bit.

The last boy, Blake Zimmers, was sorted into Slytherin and the hat and stool were taken away. The list just disappeared from Professor McLeod's hands as he went around the table and took his seat. As soon as he was seated and all evidence of the Sorting ceremony had been taken away, the man in the middle of the table rose, a fluid motion that was done with the aid of a styled black and silver cane. The Headmaster was tall and almost looked to be skin and bones, and he had an almost bird-like face. His black hair was slicked back and his robes were the same black as the students' but with silver trim and a little skull pin on the front.

"Welcome back," he said, slowly looking over the students, all of whom had fallen silent as soon as he'd risen. His voice was as smooth as his movements and appearance and, while quiet, commanded everyone's attention. "As always, there are announcements. Remember that there is no spell-casting in the halls. We don't want anyone to get hurt. And first years, know that the Forbidden Forest is _forbidden_, for there are a great many dangers that you might not come back from." Dean swore that the headmaster's eyes lit up at the prospect of students not returning from the forest but shook his head. Surely he'd imagined it - no headmaster would enjoy a student's death. "Now, for the feast."

As the headmaster sat back down, the table in front of Dean filled with food, the previously empty platters suddenly overflowing with every edible thing that he could imagine. Nearby was a plate full of tiny bacon cheeseburgers and he tossed a couple of them on his plate as well as some chicken legs and mashed potatoes. Around him, everyone else was engaged in conversation while eating. Some of the older students tried guessing how their classes would go and when they'd be and who with; others talked about their summer vacations, excitedly talking over one another and trying to see who had done the coolest stuff. Dean thought he would win - over the summer, he had been allowed to help his dad on two hunts; one was a poltergiest and the other was a tiny dragon that was causing havoc in some wizard's mansion. It definitely beat traveling to Norway, in his opinion.

Dean ended up joining in a conversation about families with the other first years. He told them about Sam, telling all sorts of stories about his little brother's accomplishments, the kind of proud tales that parents were supposed to tell. He avoided mentioning his mom and when asked about his dad, he simply said that he was gone for work a lot, but didn't bother elaborating. He'd made that mistake once and people ended up avoiding him, thinking he was mental. Not even the wizarding world accepted hunters, especially those that also helped Muggles.

In return for his stories, he heard a number of tales from Balthazar about his family, generally involving Lucifer. Every now and then, Michael would interject and correct his little brother, but for the most part he stayed wrapped up in his own conversations. Dean learned that Destan was a Muggle-born with two older, full-Muggle sisters and one younger one. By the time dessert rolled around (and Dean was piling his plate with all sorts of teeth-rotting snacks that he normally couldn't eat), they had started talking about where they were all from and it ended up that the others were just asking Dean about what America was like, since he'd lived there for nine years before his family had moved to England.

Finally, when Dean felt like his stomach was going to burst and he was going to fall asleep at the table, the food cleared away entirely. There was no cue to leave - the headmaster was still nibbling as some food that he'd managed to keep in his hands and wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention - but students started filing out of the Great Hall anyway. Michael rose and called out, "First years, come with me." Dean, Balthazar, and Destan just lingered there until their fellow first years joined them - there was one more boy and five girls all together. Michael did a quick head count before nodding once and leading them from the Great Hall.

"This path may be a little confusing now, but you'll get used to it quick enough. If you're afraid of getting lost, just ask an older student to help - most of them would be more than happy to," Michael said over his shoulder, starting up one of what looked like a million staircases. "And be careful. The staircases like to change, and not in any known pattern."

Just like in most wizarding buildings, the paintings on the walls moved and talked as they went by, greeting the new students and waving. Once Michael ended up jumping a stair, advising the others to follow his lead unless they wanted their foot to sink through the seemingly solid step. At another point they had to take a rather long detour, as the staircase they meant to use decided it would be better off all the way across the room and up a floor instead of where it was needed.

The trek to Gryffindor Tower made Dean's legs burn with the number of steps and the long distance. He, as well as the other first years, was relieved when they finally stopped in front of a large painting of a woman in pink, who was rather large herself. "Password?" the painting asked, lifting an eyebrow expectantly.

"Time-turner," Michael said. The woman nodded and the painting swung forward on hidden hinges, the first years following behind as the older Gassagen led them inside. "Don't forget the password - it's kind of necessary to get into the tower," he advised, stopping in the middle of the common room. The room was large and round, decorated with red banners and wooden furniture. Red armchairs sat in front of the crackling fire, looking soft and inviting, and tables were dotted around the room for games or studying. There were a few students in the room, sprawled in various chairs, and they just gave the first years cursory glances. "Boys, your dormitory is up the stairs to your left; girls, yours is to the right. All your belongings are already up there." With that, Michael smiled and bid them goodnight, disappearing up the left-hand staircase.

Dean, Balthazar, Destan, and the other boy, Ryan, followed after him. The room was easy to find - there was a sign on the door that said 'first years' in big block letters. Inside were four large four-poster beds with red curtains and a trunk at the end of each bed. The four boys pulled on pajamas and crawled into bed without a word, the feast and the long walk having tired them out. As Dean curled up under the blankets, he resolved to write to Sam in the morning. As he drifted off, his last conscious thought was wondering what Sam would think when he got Dean's letter, and how his little brother was doing without him.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Look, a quick update! It's shorter than the last chapter, and it's just meant to be a fun way of fully introducing Gabriel to the story. I've found that I rather enjoy writing for him and so I'm fond of the second half of this chapter. Though I have noticed it's impossible not to relate the angels to the Weasleys in some ways. Gabriel himself is both Fred and George combined, since he's literally a trickster and really kind of has some problems with listening to authority figures and not making smart comments. Michael is _a lot_ like Percy - they're both extreme sticklers for the rules and take their jobs as prefects very seriously. I don't feel like the other angels fall into this, but considering I've only really written a few lines for Lucifer and I'm still unsure about Balthazar's personality, and none of the others has come up yet, we'll see how it plays out.**

**As you may have noticed, I changed the title and description. 'Supernatural at Hogwarts' sounded kinda lame (not that this is too much better but oh, well) and the previous description made it sound kind of like a crack-fic, which was not what I was going for. I'm sorry if I confused anyone by changing either, but I felt that it would be best to do so now, when my number of readers is still comparitively small because of there only being two chapters, than later when that number could potentially raise significantly. Speaking of readers, thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, or alerted my story! And if I didn't thank you for doing so in the first chapter, well then, thanks!**

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><p>The next morning, Dean was up before the other three in his dorm. Still half asleep and forgetting where he was, he rolled over to check on Sammy. His little brother should have been asleep on one of those roll-in beds that hotels had, but when Dean fully opened his eyes, he just saw the red curtain of his four poster. The young Winchester jolted upright, his hand darting for his pillow, as his brain immediately screamed that something was wrong. His hand closed on air instead of the handle of the knife he was accustomed to keeping close at hand, and it took a minute for his sleep-muddled brain to piece together what was happening. Once he had it figured out, he let out a sigh and flopped back on the bed, making the frame creak a little. It would take a while to get used to being away from his normal life.<p>

For a few minutes, Dean lay there and listened to his roommates as they snored or snuffled in their sleep. At one point Balthazar muttered something about fish and the moon, which Dean didn't quite understand. After a minute he gave up on going back to sleep and slowly pulled back the curtains, sliding out of bed. The floor was cold on his bare feet and he was quick to dig out his slippers and pull them on. Even though he thought that the footed pajamas that Sam loved were silly and for little kids, Dean had to admit that maybe there was a good reason his brother loved them. At least they would keep his feet warm.

Continuing to rummage around in his trunk, Dean made a sizable pile of stuff atop his bed. His trunk had been packed quickly and haphazardly, with all his belongings just thrown in at random, and so he had to remove a good portion of the trunk's contents before he found what he wanted. As soon as he did, he pushed all the clothes, books, quills, parchment, and various random objects back into his trunk and pulled on a jacket over his Batman pajamas. Once he was done, there were only three objects left on his bed - a knife, a tiny notebook, and a pencil. The knife was put beneath his pillow, so he could use it if something bad actually did happen in the middle of the night, while the pencil and notebook were carried down to the common room.

The common room was nearly empty when Dean entered, and it was completely quiet. Most students were taking advantage of the fact that the school year started on a Sunday and were sleeping in for as long as they could. Those that were up were keeping themselves occupied one way or another, being careful not to be too loud and wake up their friends. No one spared Dean a glance as he climbed up to one of the tables and set his writing materials down. It would have been more acceptable to be writing with a quill and parchment, but that method annoyed Dean, since his quill liked to dry up all too quickly and it left his handwriting even messier than usual. And though Sam could read really well for a seven-year-old, the older Winchester didn't want to make it more difficult by messing up his writing with a quill.

The first page of the notebook had a childish drawing of some kind of dinosaur eating...Dean wasn't sure what it was eating. It could have been a car or some kind of dog or a bush or anything really. Maybe even another dinosaur. Apparently, Sam had gotten tired of whatever Dean had put on TV at some point and had found a way to amuse himself. Though how Sam could get bored of his shows, Dean would never know. His shows were awesome! It was Sam's little kid shows that were boring.

The next page was without dinosaurs or any kind of drawings at all and Dean stared at the lines for a moment before filling the page with large, messy letters.

_Hey, Sammy. I told you I'd write. The train ride took forever, and so did the Sorting, but it wasn't that bad. I got put in Gryffindor like I wanted! Maybe you will be too when you're old enough to come. I met this kid named Balthazar on the train. He has seven older brothers, and all of them are in school too! I can't imagine how big their house must be. But he seems pretty cool, and we might actually have a chance to become friends, since he's in Gryffindor too. I'm not going to be leaving suddenly so having him as a friend should be okay._

_The headmaster here is really weird. I think he's what the Grim Reaper would look like if you took away the cloak and the scythe. And, you know, if he wasn't a cartoon. The professors seem okay from what I saw, but I won't know till tomorrow when we start classes. I'll tell you about the magic lessons once I actually have them. I'll tell Uncle Bobby that you said hi and write to you later. Stay safe and let me know if anything happens._

_- Dean_

Dean looked over the letter critically, flipping through the notebook to read it, since his giant handwriting had made the letter take up a good three pages. Admittedly the paper was rather small, so not much could fit on it anyway. He paused at Balthazar's name, puzzling over whether or not he spelled it right, but then gave up and just assumed he had. There couldn't be that many ways to spell 'Balthazar', could there?

His letter written, Dean pulled an envelope out from where it was sitting between a couple of pages and stuffed the paper inside, scrawling Sam's name on the outside of the envelope. Tucking the letter into a pocket in his jacket, Dean made a mental note to ask someone how to get to his owl and send it. He assumed that he could find the owls up in another tower, but getting there would be the tricky bit.

The next couple hours were spent waiting for Balthazar to get up so that they could get food. Dean was hungry enough to go off on his own, but he didn't remember how to get there from Gryffindor Tower, and he didn't want to accompany any of the upperclassmen. He doubted many of them would like a first year tagging along with them and dogging their footsteps. He figured it would be like when Jo followed him around everywhere. And besides, Balthazar would probably be in the same boat as him when the other boy finally dragged himself out of bed, so it worked well.

Dean ended up wasting time by playing games against himself. At first it was Exploding Snap, at least until the cards blew up in his hands and burnt his fingers. After that he moved on to wizard's chess, instructing the opposing pieces to move as they saw fit. He kept being beaten by his own chess pieces, no matter how many different strategies he tried. Even though Dean wasn't very good at chess (Sam almost always beat him), he had thought that he'd do better if there wasn't anyone to tell the pieces what to do. He hadn't thought he could have done any worse.

Finally, after Dean had lost against his chess set for the seventh time and was about to call it quits, Balthazar slid into the seat across from him. The other boy's hair was messy and his shirt was rumpled since he hadn't changed it, but he either didn't notice or didn't care. "You're still wearing pajamas," Balthazar noted and Dean glanced down at the Batman symbol that covered his chest. Because of the jacket, he'd forgotten that he had never gotten dressed.

"Oh, yeah," the Winchester boy muttered, sliding from his chair. "Be right back." Grabbing his chess set, he hurried upstairs to the now-empty dorm. The room already looked like a twister had struck. The sheets were all rumpled and thrown about, Ryan's drapes had ended up tangled in with his blankets, and all of their trunks were hanging open with the contents strewn across the floor. Dean picked his way over to his bed and dropped his chess set on top of it, grabbing the first clothes he saw in his trunk and pulling them on. He also traded his slippers for actual sneakers and stuffed his wand in his pocket with the letter. Even though he didn't know how to use magic yet, it was probably a good idea to keep the wand on him, just in case. For that same reason, he slid a small knife into an inside pocket of his jacket before heading back downstairs. Magic was great and all, but it was a mystery to him. He was much more adept at stabbing things than blasting colored light at them.

Balthazar was waiting for him by the portrait hole when Dean came down again. The two of them slipped out underneath an older student's arm, making their way down the first downward staircase they saw. "Do you remember how to get to the Great Hall?" Dean asked, shooting a glance downward. The walls were littered with exits and doorways onto the various floors, and the stairs continually sought out new resting places below.

"As long as you don't expect me to be able to draw you a map, then sure," Balthazar said, hopping up onto a rail and sliding down to the next landing. Even glancing down made Dean's stomach twist into knots and he decided that simply walking down the stairs like a normal person was a better bet than rail-surfing. At least there was a much greater chance of not falling to his death. "I know it's down a ways, and there's a painting of an old guy and his cat next to the doorway. It shouldn't be that hard to find."

Despite Balthazar's assurances, it took over an hour to get to the right landing. Those sixty minutes consisted of Dean getting his leg stuck in a disappearing step, waiting for ten minutes for a staircase to return only to have to try and find a detour, and having to ask directions from paintings on more than one occasion. Finally, they stepped off onto a landing with a large entryway and, as Balthazar had promised, a large painting of an elderly wizard and his fat, grumpy pet. "Finally," Dean groaned, his stomach rumbling loudly in agreement as they trudged wearily toward the Great Hall. Tackling stairs for an hour was tiring work, even if a majority of the work had been going down.

When they got within sight of the Great Hall, the two first years stopped, staring around in confusion. The doors to the hall were closed, and a large mass of students was gathered around them. Most of them looked harried and frightened. Their hair and robes were in disarray, and some students were even shaking. Teachers stood closest to the doors, trying to console whatever students were around them. From behind the closed doors came a loud, rumbling roar and the screech of what sounded like an abnormally large bird.

"What's going on?" Dean asked the person closest to the two, who turned to see who had spoken. It was a girl, not too much older than the two of them, with blue fabric hemming her black robes - a Ravenclaw.

"Someone thought it would be funny to make the house animals come to life," she said, her tone conveying her distain for whoever had deigned to do something like what she'd described. "But don't worry, it should be under control soon. Professor Singer is pretty good at fixing this kind of stuff. He'll have them back on their banners in no time."

Dean didn't even bother to say that he knew full well how capable his Uncle Bobby was, or that he wasn't worried in the slightest. Even if a giant lion or snake somehow got out of the Great Hall, there were more than enough capable wizards and hunters in the area to do something about it before anything bad happened. Looking back at the other new Gryffindor, he found that Balthazar was craning his neck trying to see around people and squinting. "What are you doing?" Dean asked, giving him a strange look as he glanced around as well.

"Looking for Gabriel. This is his kind of thing, and he usually likes to hide out somewhere and see it through. He's gotta be here," Balthazar answered. It was rather mumbled and hard to hear, and Dean wondered if he even knew that he was practically talking to himself. Suddenly, the other boy's eyes lit up and he walked purposefully across the entrance hall, weaving between older students and leaving Dean to scramble to try and keep up.

A thirteen year old boy with the yellow trim of Hufflepuff on his robes was lurking off to the side of the entrance hall, lazily watching the other students milling about. He was sucking on the end of a sugar quill, a satisfied smile across his face. As Dean and Balthazar approached, he turned his attention to them and his smile widened. "Hey, Balthazar. Glad you could make it. Isn't this great?" His eyes shone happily as he gestured toward the Great Hall with his quill.

"Michael's not going to be pleased," Balthazar said matter-of-factly, glancing around as if afraid their older brother was lurking somewhere nearby. "How'd you do it, anyway? Making the animals come to life has to be a high level spell."

Gabriel just smirked, popping his quill back into his mouth and speaking around it. "You can't expect me to reveal my secrets. Though I will say that there was a _lot_ of time in the library," he said. "But it was well worth it. You should have been here when it actually started. That snake came down from the banner and people freaked. It was hilarious!" He finally seemed to notice Dean and wiped his sugar-covered hand on his robes before holding it out. "Gabriel, by the way."

"Dean," the young Winchester said, shaking the offered hand. When he drew his hand back, a few sugar crystals clung to his skin and he wiped them away, making a face. "So you did all that?" He gestured vaguely toward the Great Hall, where the sharp screech of a bird could be heard through the wood, followed by a furious hiss and a rumbling growl. Dean assumed the badger was making noise too, but its call was lost amongst the others.

Gabriel nodded cheerfully, watching as students shuffled away from the door after the animals' outburst. A few had jumped in surprise, running into other students nearby and nervous laughter rippled amongst the crowd. As the three boys looked over the crowd, they caught sight of one very annoyed Gryffindor prefect making his way toward them. Despite the fact that his brother probably was not coming over to congratulate him for his cleverness, Gabriel was still smiling and even lifted his hand in a greeting.

Dean and Balthazar moved out of the way but lingered still, curiously watching the two older Gassagen boys. Both of them were doing an extremely poor job of hiding their amusement. "What in the world were you thinking, making those animals come to life? Someone could have gotten seriously hurt if that hall wasn't cleared," Michael demanded as soon as he was close enough. Some students turned curiously, wondering who it was that Michael was yelling at. A number of students didn't look very surprised, and others gave Gabriel thumbs-up or mouthed congratulations.

"No one would have gotten hurt," the young Hufflepuff said, shaking his head. "They can't actually touch anything. They're like ghosts. Giant, roaring, hard-to-get-rid-of ghosts." Michael didn't look very impressed and Gabriel huffed, his shoulders slumping. "Oh, come on, Michael. It's just a little joke! It's supposed to be funny! You don't see anyone else here freaking out, do you?" As if on cue, the raven screeched again and several students jumped once more, one girl letting out a frightened squeak. "Well, besides them."

"It's only the first day of school, Gabe," Michael sighed, rubbing his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. "And you promised that you'd stop with the childish pranks already. They _can be_ dangerous, disruptive, and even frightening. Not to mention the fact that it takes time out of everyone's schedules to put everything back in order and it's just an inconvenience. Who knows how long the Great Hall will have to be closed off while Professor Singer sorts out your mess." Gabriel didn't look all that impressed with Michael's lecture. He just stared at his brother, sucking on his sugar quill, his other hand shoved nonchalantly in one pocket. Balthazar was rolling his eyes, and he wasn't even the one being lectured to.

Once Michael had finished chewing out his brother, Gabriel allowed silence to stretch for a moment, simply continuing to stare at the Gryffindor prefect. "Yeah... But they're fun. Doesn't that count for anything?" It looked like Michael was close to simply smacking his brother upside the head and Dean smiled. Their argument was more than a little amusing, and he wasn't the only one that thought so, as a few other students were smothering smiles of their own. They were clearly Gabriel's friends and fans that he'd collected over his previous two years at the school.

"No, that doesn't count for anything," Michael said after he seemed to have stilled his violent urge. "I have to give you detention, Gabriel. See Professor Singer about it once he's finished with your _ghosts_." Ignoring the fact that Gabriel didn't look at all impressed by getting a detention, Michael turned and stalked away, looking even more annoyed than when he'd approached in the first place.

There was silence in the boys' corner for a few seconds before the doors to the Great Hall were pushed open and Bobby came out, pocketing his wand. "They're gone," he announced to the students. Happy chattering broke out amongst the crowd and the students scattered. Some re-entered, hoping for more food, while others trickled off to spend time in their common rooms or on the grounds.

"Come on, I'm hungry," Dean said, nodding toward the Great Hall. Balthazar nodded, his stomach rumbling in its own agreement.

"I'll see you two later. I have to go set up a detention. Oh, the horror," Gabriel said, not even attempting to sound serious. He gave a quick wave before weaving around students, heading purposefully for Bobby so that he could set up his punishment. The younger two headed into the Great Hall behind a couple other students.

"I like him," Dean said, sliding into a seat at the Gryffindor table. There was considerably less food now, whether it was because it was just a normal meal or because it was all they could get out after the mascot attack, the young Winchester wasn't sure.

Balthazar nodded, sitting next to him and grabbing for a plate of chicken. "Gabriel's pretty cool. His pranks get kind of annoying after a while, though. Even worse is hearing Michael's lecture over and over and _over_ again. I could probably recite it by now, I swear." Dean laughed, piling food up onto his plate. So far, it seemed like life at Hogwarts really wouldn't be that bad.


End file.
